By seminarian Lucas J.

“A seminarian’s first true love is his father rector.”

There are so many things I’d like to tell you face to face, but I either lack words or fail to find the time and place because of who you are. On a day like Father’s Day, I would have loved for you to receive a well-deserved thank you and sentimental card from my grateful heart, but I often find this day very heart-breaking because of wounded relationships and painful memories with past and present ‘fathers’.  I struggle with even calling you father despite being obligated to refer to you as that title because you have not fulfilled the role. I believe fathers are supposed to love their sons, biological or adopted, and your expression of love is like water in the desert, absent or barely visible and that love has to be squeezed out in drops. I am hurting, and instead of making me better, instead of moulding me into a gentleman you would love to see, you increased my pain with your actions, you have reopened my wounds.

I am angry at the world and I often wonder why, as I do not want to throw my sorrow on all those who have hurt me. Yet, I can now confidently say, you are the main reason I was brought to tears on February 27, 2020 (day after Ash Wednesday). I cried because you did not care, I forced myself to believe that you meant no harm, I held my head high and tried to stay strong but the sadness and the pain was splashed all over my face and couldn’t be hidden. On the other hand, my brother tried to buy your love by doing what he thought to be good in your eyes, and you gave in and overlooked what I was doing as of less importance. This hurt more than a knife in the heart, and no amount of funds in the world could fix the hurt you inflicted on me. I was never looking, nor could I be searching for a perfect ‘father’, but just a ‘father’ that made me feel special as a son.

I have come across few men who tried to act as ‘good fathers’ to me and at the end of every journey, they come forward to say “I am sorry for anything I may have done that hurt you, those that I may have known but became ignorant to it, and other times I may not have known if I really hurt you,  all in all, I ask for pardon.” This raged the anger and hatred even more, and I am looking forward to you doing the same, as you just started. You may be ready to act like a father when it will be too late. You will apologize and blame your fault on others or even yourself “I am getting old, and forgetful.” But all I will do is laugh because it was you who missed out what I was really doing, you did not come to see what was going on and you did not ask either. Just like I laid my head on that table at Jesuit centre and shed tears, those tears represented my heart ache and sorrow you caused with that text you sent to communicate your authority. I am happy that I was able to let the tears flow, and not dwell on it any longer. I just know you have been over exerting a wounded heart and instead of letting it heal, you have infected it and let it worsen. 

You have just reminded me in a harsh way that I am fatherless. I did not expect you to treat me this way. That you would consider what I was doing to be unproductive, unimportant, and of no value. I felt unwanted and unappreciated, I went through a whirlwind of emotions that mid-morning as I was trying to reason, thinking what you thought by not asking me if I really needed the car. The thoughts full of anger and hatred were all in my head. I wanted to throw in the towel and give up on everything I was doing but I had a mission to accomplish, yes YE 2020 was already on track and I couldn’t be the one to drag behind. My eyes got wet several times, as I could not fathom why, and how you could go ahead and do that to me, come to the conclusion that I did not need transportation. Shanice tried to ask me what happened, but I could not explain, I was too emotional to say it out loud.

I saw you as a father, since I never had one, but you have disappointed me with your act of partiality just like those fathers I met in my previous stages of  life. Not once, not twice, it’s been happening in different angles, and I have been hoping for improvement. There was no hello in your text, there was nothing like, ‘how are you doing? Is it possible to help your brother? Or when is it possible for you to help your brother.” It was a straight command that did not care how it would land to the receiver. You couldn’t care less since you are the boss. In the midst of my ministry you made me vulnerable to the point of breaking down in tears, I could not keep up my vibrancy. It was very visible on my face and I could not walk around anymore. I tried to close my eyes and pretend nothing happened, but it kept ringing in my head, ‘You are nothing! You are doing nothing! Father doesn’t like you!’

Even though I am not your blood son, you could have done better as a gentleman. Do you know how it feels to be where I was, or even where I am? Have you ever cared to know how I am doing and where you can help? You choose rather to ignore that and use your power of command because maybe I am just another bastard child that you have to bring up, a boy worth nothing. 

You have broken me Father, you hurt me more than last semester as you ignored me when I needed you the most to help with my studies. Instead of being concerned about how I did with Youth Explosion you just went ahead and didn’t care. You did not want to know how I would get home, if I ate or even if I was safe. You never cared, you never asked you never acted. I have every reason to be sad, to be angry and to be hateful toward your other son, but I work on not showing it. You broke my spirit into very tiny pieces , but thanks be to God I did not give into the fragileness that I was in. I kept the pace for the sake of those I was ministering to.  You have taught me something that you will never refurbish, you have taught me to feel nothing. Though you will always get your way, just know I am not planted below the stone. I am growing up and I will not forget what you did on 27^th of Feb 2020 the very first day after Ash Wednesday and the very first day of YE2020.

You do not love me by saying “I love you” once in a while or even as frequently as you wish even though you have never done it anyways. You love me by being there for me. You love me by making the effort to be in my life; to know me, to know what my dreams and passions are, who I love, what I love and how I move. You love me because you want me to be not just a gentleman but a holy man ready to serve the society. It’s not just  the thought that counts, it’s the actual execution that matters. It’s not enough to know that deep down in  my heart, you love me even the world knows! You have to actually show that you care and you are proud of me. You love me by making an effort for me; giving me your time, your understanding, remaining a rock when I fall on hard times, not leaving when things get hard and executing punishment when necessary. 

I know the seminary is not the primary source of my socialisation, but being the secondary what I have learned in my primary socialization should at least be nurtured if it is of value and what not needed be trimmed off. But stop forcing me to what I cannot adopt and to what will destroy me and those I will minister to. You are forcing me to hate this man again. Stop talking to him again. I believe if I am not wrong, it is your work to teach me how not to be afraid to face that which oppose and challenges me, not to be afraid of the ministry ahead of me, to teach me how grow in holiness, to teach me how to be a servant who cares and love, but if you do not care and show me how to care, how will I do it to others, I cannot give what I really do not have. 

I hate how long it takes me to trust someone. It never took long for you, but I think I was dead wrong. I do not want a pity party, or anyone to sympathize with me, or anyone’s sympathy for that matter. Neither  of these labels do  I want. ‘the one with unsolved issues’ ‘the one who keeps his enemies at a distance’ the one looking to fill a void’ ‘the one with trust issues.’ None of those I want.  Because this is only a part of me’ but the part that I need to fight every time someone tries to get close to me nevertheless. Those who draw closer with double intention or with no intention and end up hurting me. Those who draw close just to make use of me like a tissue paper. 

It is your job to teach me that men do not leave when things get hard. That  a man fights for what’s worth fighting for especially if it is the right thing to do. It is your job father to be the one man in the world who would ever! ever hurt me. But you went ahead and squashed my whole being with your actions, that text was worse than a bullet for a close casket. When I expressed my concerns to you, you know what you did! I cannot tell, you know what I am saying. And with your action last week, it revealed to me you are not a trustworthy person.  

When I begin my ministry like you, I would have wished to share with others some of the good moments with you in the seminary about how you taught me to stand erect in times of challenges and in time of disagreement in the community. But I should not have a handful of moments. I should have more than that. Because as a father rector it is your job to be there for me. To teach me about how stupid ‘boys’ are in a community, to be there for me when I am betrayed or feel betrayed, wiping my tears telling me everything will be okay even when you well know I may have been the problem, or I was the one who projected myself. To tell me how beautiful I am when I don’t feel like it; to take a pic of me before my first ministry, lectern. To be there for me when my dreams come true and I am ordained, with a look in your eyes that make me feel like the most special son in the world. 

Do not pretend everything is okay. You have to earn my trust back and for real, it’s going to take a good while and a strong foundation. You thought that my brother’s situation was better than what I was doing for CYM and the people of this land of wood and water. You may have a litany of excuses lined up for what you did but that does not make a difference that you did wrong, you hurt me, and you cared less than a ‘grandpa’ does. 

Father I am a son like others, you need to appreciate me. Look what I have done and say something positive. Give me your time, all your love, take me and my brothers for a crazy adventure, have dinner with us, spoil us as a father would do to his sons, make us feel special. I want you to change me. Make me a holy man, a man that pleases God, and ready to serve him. I want you to challenge me. You know my weak points that can be strengthened. Change my view, make me believe in a lasting relationship with you as a father and with my brothers, this will make me have an even better relationship with our heavenly father. Before you say ‘yes’ to one of us, make sure the rest are comfortable. Teach me how to fix my breviary. Do not lose me because of your pride, position, fear, ego or selfish ways. A father rector should put his seminarian sons first; inspire them to reach more, love them so much that he won’t betray their trust. Not walk away because it got too hard, because you shouldn’t let any circumstance ruin this unconditional love that every son needs to have. Stop making me feel fatherless since I already am.